


Palace of Doors (and yet my heart yearns)

by JustcallmeStar



Category: The Owl House (Cartoon)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Character Study, F/F, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Suicidal Thoughts, this is just weird, weird metaphors, wow the fandom really said "Green is now angst" huh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-24
Updated: 2020-11-24
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:55:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27694448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustcallmeStar/pseuds/JustcallmeStar
Summary: Amity has a palace of doors.Some are filled to the brim, and others are nearly barren.Enter Luz Noceda,An unexpected key holder.
Relationships: (IMPLIED), Amity Blight & Luz Noceda, Amity Blight/Luz Noceda
Kudos: 41





	Palace of Doors (and yet my heart yearns)

Amity has a palace of doors.

It is wide and long, so far reaching that it bumps against the edges of her skull - scraping, scraping, always uncomfortably present. She stuffs everything behind the wooden frames, the doorknobs burning her skin, leaving permanent imprints of aching loneliness.

Some are filled to the brim, memories stacked tenfold and constantly threatening to crack the wood imprisoning it, a fire wanting oxygen. 

No matter how tempted, the wood stays firm. It is unbecoming of a Blight to show emotion.

(It is not the same when her mother shows emotions, when her magic crackles in the air in sharp angry bursts, catching fire to Amity's aching palms.)

(Power makes hypocrites of them all)

Others doors simply have isolated incidents, messy attempts at organization that leaves an imbalanced weight in her head, tipping her perspective.

It is a gradual thing, Amity thinks, the skewing of how she views the world around her. It had all been beautiful once, tainted by her parents darkness and weighed down by her own burdens, but beautiful nonetheless.

(In hindsight she thinks that might have been Willow, who always saw the beauty in nature, and looked at the world around her with bright curious eyes, infecting everyone around her with her eagerness.

Amity had tried to be like her once, but she thinks she might have just inked a dark stain on Willows innocence.)

As she got older the inconspicuous green taint of her parents expectations had slowly bled into her, filling her veins and changing her hair. It stained her palms with the infamous Blight colouring, a poor attempt at covering the scabbed over scars that marred her hands, her head,-

Her soul.

A green door sits alone.

Across the hall, miles and miles apart yet still close together, the dark brown of a forgotten fort on the beach and bright colors of a first friend sit, the cobwebs hanging across the surface of the chipped wood.

Dark brown, overflowing with days that never happened and silent pleas for something more, something better.

(The green never really hid her scars, or the silent question in her eyes, but no one was looking.

And if no one is looking, no one will find it.

It is unbecoming of a Blight to show emotions.)

‐----‐--‐---------------------

A new door arrives. 

This is not new. A new door, a new weight, something Amity would inevitably learn to live with. 

(Its all she knows how really, learning to live with it. Her heart longs to set fire to every piece of wood, but the wood is the only support she has to stop the whole palace from falling in.

Sometimes she wishes the rubble would just crush her, and then she'll have finally let everyone down

one 

last 

time.

But Amity is a coward, and she doesn't know how to pick a side, trapped in limbo in the middle.

Another door, another day.)

The door holds the smile of a young girl, bright and earnest and genuine, something Amity has never been. There's a permanent twinkle in her eyes and-

Oh.

Oh no.

It doesn't take Amity very long, a few weeks at most, to realize that her entire palace is in danger.

(Not that she has any real affection towards it, but the dust ridden doors are something she lets herself think about in the dead of night when suppressing her sobs takes too much effort.

Remember, but don't dwell. 

Dark brown is the color she dreams.)

Luz, known across the Boiling Isles as The Human, apprentice to the wanted Owl Lady.

Known across Amity's landscape as a danger, someone who was rigged with a key, the ache of freedom and the terrified child afraid of change awaiting judgment.

Waiting,

Waiting, 

Always waiting for something unknown yet thrilling, just out of reach and comprehension alike.

(Her mothers emotionless voice calling from the dining room, her father's blank stares. He used to be like Amity, she thinks. Dark brown. The life has been drained out of him, the doors too heavy.

They hold her in place, keeping her locked in, away from temptation.

Amity fears becoming her father.

She would rather die then become her mother.)

She tries to resist.

She tries as hard as she can, but the weight lifting off her shoulders door by door everytime Luz smiles at her is much too intoxicating to pull away from, and the traitorous hope in her chest when Willow says she's willing to try to be friends is deadly, deadly when the cobwebs get slowly brushed away, against her will.

Luz holds a key, and she's started testing doors. 

Amity holds her trump cards close to her chest, the bright door with the smiling girl and the dark brown with the ever lessening dust something she refuses to relinquish.

(The idea of letting go and changing everything she knows is quite terrifying, and she can't Luz know how much of a monster Amity is with her faded brown and her bright green and the dark thoughts that leak in when everyone turns their backs.

She can't let Luz in, and she can't keep her out.

Stuck in the middle, once again.)

\-------------------------

Alone.

Alone together.

Amity enjoys being alone with Luz, and she also hates it with every fiber of her being.

(Hates herself.)

Luz is bright, and wonderful, and why does she spend time with Amity? Sympathy? 

It freezes her insides and makes her feel alive.

But Luz is smiling, and laughing, and she isn't the type to try to hide her emotions.

And sometimes, when Luz thinks Amity isn't looking, (Amity is always looking, she can't look anywhere else) Luz gets a look in her eyes, a quite and contemplative expression that reflects a key in her irises, and Amity wonders if she knows.

If Luz knows what she's doing to Amity, what is her intention?

Amity doesn't know, but Luz is here, and she's laughing, and Willow is quietly moving, sitting closer to Amity.

Her dreams slowly change, and the Dark Brown changes into something she can't really describe. There is more color, more brightness and the pounding in her head as another door falls feels more serene than destructive.

Amity is still terrified.

And yet, as her hand slowly loosens the grip on her trump cards, she has hope for something...

Colorful.

**Author's Note:**

> I didn't edit this or anything and I wrote it in like an hour, so I hope you enjoyed my random weird metaphor rambling.


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